Crazy Crow

When I was in Lompoc with my brother Andrew and my dear sister-in-law Debbie, we went for a walk with one of the family cats, Simba. (Since you’re wondering, yes, the other cat’s name is Nala.) Simba is a bold cat, and though he doesn’t walk on a leash, he does walk and follow along as we typically think of dogs doing.

On this afternoon walk, we came across a crow marching around in the street near a puddle. (His companion was perched on a telephone pole wire, watching him.) When the crow saw the cat, the crow started letting it be known that the street was his territory. Simba hissed. Crow made sounds like this: crow calls. My brother declared to crazy crow that he was not in charge! Crow did not fly off; he stalked off, glancing back over his shoulder as Andrew, Debbie, Simba and I turned into an alleyway, and he was acting all street-tough about it, continuing his bold squawking!

It was quite animated crow-talk, let me tell you.

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